


Blinded

by toots (TooMany0TPs)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Falling In Love, Murder, Physical Abuse, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2019-01-06 04:54:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12204273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TooMany0TPs/pseuds/toots
Summary: Love can kill, but it's not always good.





	Blinded

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING - This fic can be very upsetting, read with caution.   
>  I wrote this purely on impulse of raising awareness having seen an advert.  
>  Please, I love Bellamione, but they were the most suitable OTPs I had for this type of fic.

 Her family saw it, her friends saw it, even her professors saw it, but she refused to. For the longest time she carried on, living life, loving life, loving _in_ life; but she never saw because her love blinded her.

 Her loving started when she was close to finishing sixth form, they met in your typical quiet, little tea shop, the one that looks old-fashioned and prissy but in actuality, the food is gorgeous. She was the one serving, her lover was the customer.

 The customer flirted the first time they met, making her blush and tuck her chin down, trying to hide her rosy-reds.

 This carried on every day until the Sunday a fortnight later, during which time, she had been teased mercilessly by her friends. But finally, the customer, with long dark curly hair, skin whiter than Snow and lips a deep maroon. The perfect definition of sexy, the kind that’s applied to the dark and mysterious type, the kind that says _danger_.

 The woman had grinned devilishly, leant on the counter, pushing up her bust; not caring for the huff from the only other customer at the time, who stood behind her; she’d licked her lips, winked and slid a small folded piece of paper forward, the paper a deep red.

 She had blushed yet again, nervously picked up and then unfolded the paper, feeling her heart thudding much like a sprinter’s stride. On it read ‘7:00pm, Minnie’s, Tomorrow’ in the most beautiful curled cursive. She had gasped, her eyes blown wide, she looked up only to be met by the yellowing teeth and stubbly beard of the other customer, her woman having left. So, she smiled at the man, took his order and completed it, all the while her heart was beating, her hands shaking and her breath uneven.

 

  * Minnie’s



 

 “Well, don’t you look glamorous.” The same devilish grin that had made her blush for the first time, same dark curls, pale skin, those same red lips that could make people go delirious with arousal when a pearly white would latch onto it.

 She nodded “Yourself included”.

 They had spent the night nattering, laughing, your general date things; ended with the woman leading her home and kissing her ‘goodnight’, the cherry on-top. That night…she didn’t sleep, instead she spent it very much awake, with her fingers between her legs, and her head thrown back.

 

 

 She had been the kind to love life, take every chance she got and live it to the max. She was the kind to say yes to bungee jumping, to say yes to nights in under blankets with a classic disney film, and say yes to spontaneously go skiing in the in-door snow-globe with the lads.

 She had a plan, to become a lawyer, or banker … or CEO of her very own software design company. She was going to go to uni, work her way into finding the money to fund herself, so she could support those around her.

 She had a future.

 




 

 The second and third dates were spent in the cinema, mostly because ‘rain’, because it’s Britain.

 The first cinema trip was with your typical, sloppy romance. The second being the latest action film starring Wonder Woman. Both were spent with hands held and her head resting on the woman’s shoulder, how could they not? After all, they were falling in love.

 Or at least, she was, or so it seemed.

 

 

 She didn’t know the woman had a past, she didn’t know the family the woman had come from. She just. Didn’t. Know.

 She thought she was in love, and she was, but her lover’s version of said love was twisted and cruel, brought about by one too many punishments for spilt milk, one too many raised voices.

 She had no chance against this beautiful fate.

 Many had started to see the problems in her love life, and the four purple splotches around her wrist. They started to see, because they weren’t blinded.

 Her best friends had begged her to leave, to live with them in their tiny one-bedroomed flat, because that was all they could afford, they had begged for her to at least ‘open her eyes’ but she didn’t, she couldn’t. She loved too hard and that was her downfall.

 

 

  After around three years together, she had invited her family over to her lover’s house well, mansion really, for dinner and a glass of wine later, maybe even break out the bourbon.

 She had been too preoccupied with hugging her best friends, with laughing and drinking to notice the slow deterioration of her lover’s mind and the alcohol taking over her blood and mind. But really, she was still sober, after just one glass compared to the many nights drinking glass after glass of vodka or the next best thing, trying to drown her sorrows and break her spirit, to make herself forget her nightmares.

 The green fog had grown thick and fierce, lashing out in subtle wisps, translated as harsh words and warnings. But, she hadn’t paid attention, after all she was happy, she was content and she was safe, or so she thought.

 The only ones who noticed, were those who’d been invited over. Every single one still regrets the day they didn’t worn her, they regret letting them carry on. One drinks himself to sleep every birthday and Christmas because he can’t stand that he didn’t save her.

  One drowns himself in work, much like his sister who works fifteen hours a day, just to do something, make them feel like they’ve achieved something.

 Her family save a minute’s silence before every meal, bedtime and drink. They stare at the empty spot on the sofa, indented with a once beautiful young lady, flourishing and loving life.

 Her once luniest friend, constantly in the clouds now stares into nothingness whilst sat at her friend’s family’s dining table, drawing patterns into the woodwork as she has no job to drown her sorrows and her regrets in, no, she lost her job when she grieved for too long. Her boss having had enough of the lack of secretary, fired her and hired someone else.

 

 The night of the meal, the family get-together, at 12:00pm, on May the 30th 2020, Hermione Jean Granger was murdered, through a lover’s rage and love blindness.

 Her death wasn’t brutal, and it wasn’t bloody, it was harsh, in the way she had so much life left, so much love. But that love had been given to the wrong person.

 

 At 2:47am, on June the 14th, after running away from authorities and the glares and the ghosts, Bellatrix Rosia Black, took her own life through Seppuku.

 She couldn’t stand that her lover was no longer there for her, she couldn’t stand that she was the one because of it. She was weak, she used her lover as a means of release a way of battling her demons and her lover had understood, had helped her, had cherished her and she had repaid her through death.

 

  * \- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -



 

 This fic is dedicated to those who are lost through abuse of any kind. This fic is hopefully, to help raise awareness for abuse and why it happens and how it happens. There are many ways people are abused and this is just one of thousands of ways.

 I cried writing this because this could happen to anyone, anywhere, any time.

 #DomesticAbuse.


End file.
